


Pampering Beetlejuice

by cabochonedwitch



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: BEETLEJUICE IS A BOTTOM, BJ is also a softie who wants to be cuddled and loved, Beetlejuice has uniquely HIM genetalia, Beetlejuicexreader, Other, Sex, Sex Toys, beetlejuice x reader - Freeform, soft soft softie soft sweet kissy kissy uwu lovey dovey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28280073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabochonedwitch/pseuds/cabochonedwitch
Summary: Reader wants to make Beetlejuice (and themselves) feel good.
Relationships: gender neutral - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Pampering Beetlejuice

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dyslexic. I don't know a thing about grammar and I don't care to learn.  
> I will never write a fic for BeetleB@bes, please do not ask.

Despite Beetlejuice being dead, under certain circumstances his body could heat up just ever so slightly. Warmth rising in his cheeks when you carefully take his face in your hands and kiss his lips. Once, twice, and suddenly it’s more than a kiss it’s a *need*; absolute desperation as he winds his arms around your waist and kisses you. Some of his kisses are sloppy, his tongue moving across your mouth and lips hastily as if he were trying to devour you. Other kisses are tender and soft, when he remembers you’re mortal and you need to catch your breath. With his multiple arms twisted around your body he likes to think he has the upper hand, a shit-eating grin spreads across his face and he motions you to step backwards only to fall onto a bed (how did a bed get on the roof?). You hear the springs in this old mattress creek and his full weight on top of you, he holds you down, kissing, licking, lapping away at your exposed skin. 

But you didn’t come up to the roof with him to be pampered, you came because he’s important to you and he doesn’t believe he’s important to anyone. 

It doesn’t take much to push him off of you and for you to straddle him, he smirks and chuckles, “Gonna ride me like a horse, hot stuff?” He tips his hat to you, when in the hell did he get a cowboy hat? 

Leaning down over him you feel his body stiffen and shiver. He’s afraid.

“BJ, will you let me love you?” 

Your whisper is soft and tender but it demolishes his barricade of bravado, he doesn’t say anything (for once), misty eyed, he nods, and relaxes ever so slightly. 

Settling back just a bit you help him out of his blazer and toss it aside, without it he looks naked but you didn’t come this far just to stop with a stupid coat. With his neck exposed you take advantage of it, kissing and sucking softly on his skin, bruises forming quickly on his cold flesh. Hastily you make your way down his shirt, unbuttoning it, to see his chest and perfectly round tummy. He’s scarred, which makes him want to curl up and crawl away, but with permission you keep moving forward. Kissing each scar, easing him out of his shirt, rubbing his shoulders, kissing his tummy, scratching his back, praising him in all the ways you know he deserves. 

A little bit of his mischievous nature rubbed off of you and in one fluid motion the kisses on his neck turned into a bite, he gasped and was clearly embarrassed, but he liked it, a lot actually. 

Your motions are rougher, biting him, sucking hard on his flesh, pinching his nipples tightly.  
Beneath you his moans are nearly orgasmic, he wants this, he wants you. Your touch, your words, your everything has turned him into a mess and you haven’t even pulled off his pants. 

Taking off your own top you throw it aside. Beetlejuice (in awe of your warm flesh) takes a moment to touch you. His cold hands fondle your skin softy, nicking you with his sharp claw-like nails a few times, his warm mouth taking one of your nipples and sucking hard, biting down even harder. Having gotten a loud moan out of you makes him chuckle,  
“You sing real purddy-like…” again, where did the cowboy hat come from?  
You flick it off of him and push him back down,  
“BJ, this is my time. Just try and relax.” 

Marked up and visibly aroused, you were able to remove his pants and boxers. 

You weren’t quite sure what you’d find between the legs of a demon, but a hot, wet pussy and striped tentacle-dick didn’t surprise you. 

“It’s uhhh… a demon thing…” he mumbles. 

“It’s a you thing, and I love you.”

Taken aback he freezes, until he feels your warm fingers circling his clit eliciting a loud moan from him.  
“Mmm… more.” He pleads, and you oblige.

Pressing hard on his clit you massage him rhythmically. Pushing fingers into him elicit loud moans and groans as he grinds on you for more relief. 

What you hadn’t noticed were your own missing pants and undergarments. Cold air met your bare flesh just as one of Beetlejuice’s cold hands slipping between your thighs and massaging your body as you did with him, trying to match your motions and speed. 

“More!” He pleads, seemingly a bit frustrated and growing increasingly whiny, his wetness having permeated the sheets beneath the two of you. If only you had a few of your toys you could help him along… when with a small clatter, your toys appear on the bed. 

“H-how did you…” you start to question him, only to feel his fingers press further into you, pulling out another deep moan from within you. 

Beetlejuice has never been one to fight fair, and you’re ready to fight fire with fire. A rabbit vibrator rolled on the bed towards you and you didn’t hesitate to take it and ease it into him, letting it rest motionless within him,  
“Babe… babe please…” he mutters, satisfied with his begging, you turn the toy on and he moans loud enough that you think he’ll wake the whole neighbourhood.  
“Ah fuck!” He cries out, the toy working miracles in his pussy. 

His hands entirely stopped moving on your body, gripping the sheets, or at his hair, the pleasure overcoming him. 

There was one piece of him you hadn’t yet touched, his dick. 

Leaking profusely and seemingly flicking back and forth, you take it in your hand and stroke it, only to see Beetlejuice desperately arch his hips. 

With his hands occupied and his moans too beautiful to drown out, it seems like you just need to take care of this yourself. 

Straddling him again, you lower yourself onto his dick, feeling it throb and twitch within you.  
“Fucking Christ!” He calls out, his hands gripping your hips, urging you to move, and you do.  
Resting on top of him, you rock back and forth as his multiple hands appear again, a few helping you move, others tearing more holes in the tattered sheets, another holding that magnificent toy in place. 

“Mm, Beetlejuice!” You moan, his thick tentacle penetrating you, his arms massaging you.

“Two more…” he grunts, “Two more and I can cum, baby.”  
No wonder he’s been so extremely needed, he’s been edged the entire time.  
“Oh Beetlejuice…” You taunt him, sitting up and moving agonizingly slow against him.  
He’s growing frustrated with you, your teasing, your edging. It feels nice to have the upper hand for once. 

Resting back and moving at your own pace, you close your eyes and continue to rock against him. Listening to his nonsensical moans, feeling his extra hands clumsily fondle your skin, the contrast of his cold body and your warmth are enough to move you to your orgasm. 

“Beetlejuice!” 

Hiving finally given him what he wants, he reaches his peak loudly.

In the blink of an eye, the toys are gone, your clothing is neatly piled, and the bed has faded away leaving you to catch your breath on the cold tiles of the roof. 

“BJ?” you question, exhausted but satisfied, “Where are you going?”  
He’s fumbling with his clothing, frantically trying to scramble away, “Oh uh, y’know gotta run toots.”  
“BJ… you don’t need to go, if you wanna stay and rest with me that’s okay.”  
He stops, with one foot in his pants, “Huh?” He’s never heard those words before.  
“Come back here… let’s rest for a while.” 

With a snap of his fingers that small squeaky bed is back beneath you and he’s beside you, curled up against you tightly, wearing his cowboy hat.  
“The hat stays.” is all he mutters, burying his scratchy beard into the crook of your neck and choosing to rest beside you.


End file.
